


3 Things He Did Right

by WeLoveSherlolly



Series: 3 [2]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: A Happy Ending, F/M, counterpiece, he does things right this time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-07
Updated: 2014-12-07
Packaged: 2018-02-28 11:56:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2731592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WeLoveSherlolly/pseuds/WeLoveSherlolly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Asking Molly to stay was the first thing he did right.</p>
            </blockquote>





	3 Things He Did Right

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so I wrote this as a counterpiece to my one-shot '3 Mistakes' instead of doing a continuation of it because I felt like the story was done.
> 
> I've chosen to make it a series on its own instead of adding it to my Welovesherlollies Series.

He watched as she stepped out of the cab and handed over the money to the driver, to be honest he hadn’t been completely sure that she’d stop by, she had after all waited until she had no more than three days to go to tell him that she was moving.

He’d known for a while of course that she was moving on and a couple of days before she told him he was sure she would leave without a word, and he wouldn’t blame her. His treatment of her after the whole business with the fake Moriarty had been handled had been horrendous at best, and even before there’d been an awkward silence between them due to the whole slapping incident.

Her steps travelled up the stairs and reached his ears, there was a creak which was how he knew that she’d walk through the door in about five more steps.

“Hello Sherlock” she said just loud enough for him to hear.

“Molly” he replied without turning to face her, simply waiting for her to tell him goodbye and to walk out of his life for good.

“I just came to say goodbye, but you know that obviously” he knew she was nipping at her lower lip, it was one of her nervous tics, and he cursed his mind for bringing up the familiar sight wanting nothing more than to forget it like she was going to forget him.

“Yes I realise that, as you said, obvious” he kept his voice cold and unattached making sure Molly didn’t hear how much he wanted to beg her to stay.

“Well goodbye” he felt the warmth of her hand on his shoulder, she gave it a small squeeze before she stepped away from him and walked back to the door.

"I’ll miss you" she whispered, never intending for him to hear it, nor the sadness of his indifference in her voice.

But he heard it loud and clear, the meaning of the words running through his cold bones and the frozen heart he’d only recently started to acknowledge fully.

“Don’t go” he didn’t particularly mean for Molly to hear that, just as she hadn’t wanted him to hear her last words.

But as it turned out she heard them as clearly as he’d heard hers.

She turned back to face him from the door and took a while to just look him in the eyes, when the moment was over she gave him a smile, and walked out his door.

Asking Molly to stay was the first thing he did right.

oOoOoOo

She’d still left.

Sherlock had been refusing to take cases for a few days, insisting to John and Mary that it had nothing to do with Molly’s departure. _“She’ll come back anyways, she’ll never be happy anywhere else but here in London.”_ That’s what he’d told them.

Neither had said anything to disagree with him, but he didn’t miss the look that passed between them. He’d chosen to ignore it, knowing that making a comment on it would only spur on their simply stupid idea that he missed Molly.

When John started complaining about being bored, even though he had a new baby to take care of, Sherlock started to accept cases again. He refused to leave the flat though and simply sent John out to the streets, talking to him through texts and video chats.

John had grumbled and scolded Sherlock but after complaining about it for several hours he realised that the consulting detective wasn’t going to listen to him, so begrudgingly, he’d left Baker Street without the company of Sherlock.

**It’s a 9 Sherlock you should be here. JW**

**John you’ve worked with me on several cases and you’ve never understood the criteria’s of my number system; leave that to me or Molly. It’s obviously only a five. SH**

He didn’t realise he’d mentioned her name before he’d already pressed send and he inwardly admonished himself for doing so after promising never to talk about her again.

**So just you then. JW**

Sherlock rolled his eyes knowing that his friend had that stupid self-satisfied look on his face he usually got when he (rarely) got to mock him.

**Yes, just me. SH**

Sherlock didn’t have the energy to pull John down from the high horse he was no doubt mounting; he could easily do it of course. But his will to do so, to strip people of their (believed) supremacy had been lacking.

Mrs. Hudson came up the stairs carrying a tray with tea, biscuits and a newspaper.

The article on page number seven caught Sherlock’s attention and he was out of the door in a second, his coat billowing behind him.

He was in Cambridge just over an hour later, having gotten himself access to one of Mycroft’s infamous black cars.

Storming down to the morgue of the hospital Molly now worked in was a tricky business since he didn’t know the place, but he was Sherlock Holmes and found it much sooner than anyone else would have (or so he told himself.)

“I love you.”

Telling Molly he loved her was the second thing he did right.

oOoOoOo

Sherlock had gotten Molly back to London, back to Barts, and back into his life. Just as he’d said he would.

He was smiling in his chair while looking forward to meeting Molly after her meeting with Mike. She’d been nervous but Sherlock had no doubt in his mind that she’d get her job back, and that she could most likely start right away. Of course if Mike _did_ say no, Sherlock would only have his brother sack the man and give Molly the job.

His smile faltered and his eyes widened as his gaze fell on the telly running as background noise. He’d heard the mention of St. Bart’s and the word fire, and he started running.

He’d called everyone, firstly John telling him to get Mary and meet him at NSY, then Greg informing him that he needed to go to his office even though he had the day off, and lastly Mycroft asking him to do what he did best.

He’d grabbed Mrs. Hudson’s arm after knocking furiously at her door while still talking rapidly to his brother, she’d opened it ready to reprimand him for making such a noise. But his hand on her arm and the look on his face had successfully stopped her from doing anything but follow him out to the street where a black car already waited for them.

John and Mary arrived at the same time as Sherlock and Mrs. Hudson, departing their own black car. Before John could ask what the heck was going on a third car stopped and left after Mycroft had glided out of it.

The conference room was cleared on Mycroft’s orders and he instructed one of Greg’s men to turn on the laptop and big screen on the wall before punching in a bunch of codes and stepping to the side when he was done.

Videos of the fire, before he fire, and after the fire were playing one by one in no order, Sherlock had no trouble however to see the order in what seemed like too much chaos. And he had no trouble to see Molly stepping into the hospital, but never coming out.

He left the room with a swish of his coat before the others could turn to face him and give him the sad looks he knew they would.

He stalked through the doors with a ragged breath, regretting that he’d never quite gotten to tell her everything she needed to hear from him, even though he knew, she knew.

He’d never get to apologise for the way he’d treated her, or to explain to her that he was simply trying to protect her from what had happened to John and the others when they’d gotten too close to him.

He heard someone saying his name but didn’t care to look knowing very well that it was most likely John running after him. But when his name was spoken again he realised it was a woman’s voice, and not Mary.

Sherlock turned around swiftly to see Molly standing wide-eyed at the other side of the street, and the look on her face as she watched him made him realise that he’d been crying.

He gave a shuddering breath as the woman he could finally admit that he loved walked towards him and his eyes closed involuntarily as she placed her soft hand on his cheek.

“Marry me” he asked when he finally opened his eyes and looked at her.

She kissed him, it was soft and everything he had ever let himself imagine it would be. He was still uncertain of her answer but then he felt her smile against his lips, and when they parted she let out a breathy “Yes.”

Asking Molly to marry him was the third thing he did right, and quite surprisingly not the last.

**Author's Note:**

> You know comments and kudos make me happy ^^


End file.
